For Better, For Worse

by June Francis

  On Sunday morning the four of them went to the morning service at St Margaret’s Church and saw Milly and Jimmy with the babies in the pram as they entered the church grounds. Ben could not have the following morning off work, but luckily the couple were already aware that the court case was the next day, and Jimmy’s mother was coming over from New Brighton to look after the twins as Milly wanted to be in court to support Grace.

  * * *

  The following morning Ben held Grace tightly as he was about to leave for work and whispered encouraging words in her ear, telling her the trial was about getting justice for her father more than anything else. He wished he could be by her side, but he would be with her in spirit. He kissed her several times before tearing himself away and climbing into the van.

  Simon cooked her breakfast and washed up afterwards. He wanted to go to court with her, but she insisted he stay out of it and look after Fergus.

  ‘Things could get nasty and you might find it difficult remaining silent and we don’t want you being charged with being in contempt of court.’

  She kissed him and went upstairs to decide on what she should wear for the ordeal ahead. She thought of wearing the dress she had bought years ago, having chosen it over the one Dougie had wanted her to buy as a gesture of defiance, but decided it was much too cold, and instead she took out a pin-striped skirt, pink blouse and pin-striped jacket. When Milly arrived she told Grace that she looked smart and like she meant business which bucked Grace up. She asked Milly to pin her hair up as she had done on her wedding day and she wore the hat she had worn later that day. As she, Norman and Milly glanced out of the bus window at St George’s Hall on Lime Street, Grace was thinking of Dougie having spent the last few days in the cells below and she wondered if he was regretting his violence towards her father, as well as writing those insulting words he had written about her and his desire that his uncle had sickened and died a year ago.

  Despite the butterflies fluttering madly in her stomach, Grace managed to get through giving her evidence to the judge without breaking down, even though she was aware of her aunt and cousin’s disapproving looks as she recounted what had happened. Grace guessed that her uncle Douglas had to work that day, so could not be there. She felt proud of her father when Norman took the stand and gave his oath, followed by his evidence. Dougie had decided to plead not guilty, despite legal advice, claiming that he had acted in self-defence as Fergie had attacked him. Nonetheless, he was found guilty of unlawful entry as he came into the house premeditated to cause harm to his cousin and her father. The judge sentenced him to five years’ imprisonment, based mainly on the fact that he had attacked Norman, who was defenceless and frail.

  Grace was stunned by length of the sentence; she had wanted Dougie to suffer for what he had done to her father, but she had not thought he would be imprisoned for so long. She did not need to glance in either Dougie’s direction or that of his mother to imagine their horrified expressions. Instead, she gazed at her father, who said in a low voice, ‘Don’t you dare blame yourself! He’s brought it on himself. He always was an unpredictable chancer and he’s fortunate that I’m a tough old bird, otherwise, he could be facing a charge of manslaughter.’

  ‘Let’s get out of here, Dad,’ Grace pleaded, her mind reeling. ‘I don’t want to come face to face with Aunt Polly on the way out.’

  Unfortunately, Grace could not rush her father, because he was not as tough as he thought he was and could only walk at a snail’s pace. Luckily, Milly managed to reach them and helped to support him from the courtroom. As they reached the steps outside the building, that they were approached by Polly and Marion.

  ‘How could you?’ demanded a weeping Polly. ‘After all I’ve done for you since my sister died! She’d hate you both for turning against your own flesh and blood. You’re to blame for his problems and behind his behaviour.’

  ‘Your son is not my flesh and blood,’ retorted Norman in a quavering voice. ‘And I paid you for caring for my daughter. The boy threatened us and would have done worse had the dog not stopped him. Now get out of our way before I call a bobby.’

  ‘Don’t you speak to my mother like that,’ Marion yelled, thrusting her face into Norman’s. ‘You’ll regret this day.’

  Norman drew back his head. ‘Not as much as your brother is regretting taking a poker to me and my daughter in that shameful way,’ he countered.

  ‘And he could have caused my babies to be injured!’ burst out Milly.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ spluttered Polly.

  ‘He took the brake off their pram and pushed it off the step and set it going down the street,’ said Grace. ‘If it hadn’t been for some girls playing nearby and Milly tearing after it, the pram could have ended up in the road and been hit by a car. I think Dougie wanted to be sure that he had the right address and see who came out of the house, but who knows why he did it – probably as a way of trying to get back at me somehow. Or maybe Milly…’

  ‘But why should he want to hurt Milly?’ asked Polly bewildered.

  Milly said, ‘Most probably because my husband did not read out the nasty telegram he sent to Grace at the wedding reception which threatened to spoil things for her. Ask Marion if you don’t believe us.’

  ‘What!’ Polly glanced at her daughter. ‘What do you know about this?’

  Marion did not answer, but dragged on her mother’s arm. ‘Let’s go!’

  Polly allowed herself to be pulled away, and Grace, Milly and Norman went in the opposite direction, heading for the Kardomah Cafe in Church Street where they were fortunate to find a table available; it being the last day for Christmas shopping. They ordered a pot of tea and buttered toasted teacakes, and ate and drank in silence. As they watched what was going on around them, Grace felt herself slowly relaxing. Milly ordered a jug of hot water and another four teacakes. When they had finished, as if by an unspoken agreement not to mention the court case and its aftermath, they left the cafe and went to catch the tram home. There was a queue for the tram, but fortunately they managed to get on it, although Grace and Milly had to stand. Norman would have given his daughter his seat, but she insisted he sit down and rest. She and Norman parted from Milly and strolled up the street to their home where they found Simon eating a tin of heated-up oxtail soup with Fergie sitting at his feet, eager for a sop of bread.

  ‘So, how did it go?’ Simon asked.

  ‘As I expected,’ said Norman. ‘He won’t be out of prison for a while.’

  ‘Good,’ said Simon. ‘Now we can forget him and enjoy Christmas.’

  Grace thought that was easier said than done. But she knew she was going to have to put her best face on and make it a really good Christmas, as it might just be her father’s last. She could not deny that Dougie’s attack on Norman had taken it out of him.

  Chapter 21

  The snow which Simon hoped would arrive on Christmas Day did not materialise. Instead the weather was quite mild and after breakfast and the opening of presents, Grace shooed Simon and Ben out, so the boy could have a kick about with his new football in the park while she could get on, in peace, preparing lunch. She had installed her father in an armchair to one side of the fireplace and had switched the wireless on, so he could listen to Christmas music. Later they would all listen to the King’s Christmas message.

  In the meantime, she stuffed the capon and placed the bird in the oven before peeling the potatoes and placing them round the capon in the roasting tin. She made brandy butter for the Christmas pudding and then set the table with the damask, lace-trimmed tablecloth that had been a wedding present. She did so while thinking about her aunt and uncle and cousins and how they must be feeling this Christmas with Dougie in Walton prison, not so very far away. She wondered if prisoners were served Christmas lunch, and whether Dougie was now having regrets for his violent behaviour.

  Ben had said that he had received what he deserved and had only himself to blame, adding, ‘We can put him out of our minds now for t
he term of his imprisonment and get on with our lives. I can’t bear the thought of him sniffing around you, like he owned you. There’s something not quite right about it.’

  Grace had agreed with him and knew she had to make the most of having her father with them. Every time she had looked at Norman over the last few days her heart sank, because he was simply not the man he had been a year ago.

  * * *

  Christmas passed and the start of the new year of 1935 came and went. Spring arrived and with it the news that Grace was going to have a baby in the September. Ben was delighted, as was the expectant mother, and Simon and Norman. Grace prayed every day that he would live to see his grandchild born and that her aunt would forgive her and there could be peace between them.

  She was able to pass on the news to her aunt via Beryl who was now married to Davy and no longer lived at home, but rented a house in Troughton Street, which was not far from Wavertree Road. Grace sometimes ran into her in St John’s Market in the city centre. Their first meeting had been awkward, but Beryl didn’t seem as keen to disown Grace as the rest of her family and proclaim Dougie’s innocence, something that Grace put down to Dougie’s harsh treatment of his younger sister when they were children.

  ‘It’s not a big house,’ said Beryl, ‘but it means we can have our own place. Mam suggested we live with her, but if I’m honest, I wanted to get away from our Marion and from Mam’s moodiness and nagging. We’re also nearer to Davy’s mam who lives on Chatsworth Street, and we’re not far from the Pivvie on Lodge Lane if we wanted to go out one night.’

  Grace smiled, remembering visiting the Pavilion theatre to see a pantomime years ago with her aunt and Beryl. Marion and Dougie had considered themselves too old for pantomimes, saying they were for children.

  ‘So, a good move,’ she said.

  Beryl nodded. ‘We’re really happy.’

  ‘Your dad all right?’

  ‘He’s fine, and tries to buck Mam up, reminding her that she wouldn’t have been seeing anything of Dougie if he’d gone to live in Australia or if he’d decided to live in London and not near her. At least now she can go and visit him in prison here.’

  ‘Does she go regularly?’

  Beryl nodded. ‘Once a month. She doesn’t really talk about it, though.’ Sensing Grace’s discomfort, she changed the subject quickly. ‘So, what sex do you want the baby to be?’

  ‘I don’t mind, just as long as it’s healthy.’ Grace smiled. ‘I suspect Ben would like a girl, as he already has a son.’

  ‘I’d like a girl, so I can dress her up in pretty frocks,’ said Beryl dreamily. ‘Besides, if there’s a war in the future a boy could be called up.’

  Grace stiffened. ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Because that there Hitler and his gang have broken the Versailles Treaty several times – they’ve reinstated their air force and are rearming and have brought in conscription – according to my fella who reads the newspapers and listens to the wireless.’

  ‘That wouldn’t affect any babies we have,’ said Grace, thinking gloomily that it could affect their husbands, though. ‘Our government should take a firm stand and protest at the next League of Nations meeting.’

  ‘Too right they should,’ said Beryl. ‘It fair makes me shiver to think that there could be another war. Wasn’t the last one supposed to be a war to end all wars?’

  Grace nodded. ‘Let’s hope for the best and not think the worse,’ she said.

  That evening she mentioned to Ben and her father what Beryl had told her. They exchanged glances.

  ‘No use worrying about it,’ said Ben. ‘It won’t change things. We just have to hope and pray that our government reacts wisely and puts the wind up Hitler. We can’t depend on Italy because Mussolini is another extremist, but France would side with us.’

  ‘What about Russia and other countries in Europe?’ she asked.

  ‘Don’t let’s get ahead of ourselves. We’ll have more pleasant things to think about soon,’ he said nodding towards her stomach.

  Grace let the subject drop and took up her knitting and carried on with the matinee coat she was making for the baby. Milly had been thrilled with the news of the baby and she offered her hand-me-downs from one or the other twin for when the baby was born. Grace had accepted gladly and made up her mind to do what Ben had said and think only of pleasant things.

  * * *

  In May, the country celebrated the King’s Silver Jubilee, and Grace remembered the Royal visit to Liverpool last year. It seemed an age ago since Grace had waved Dougie off to Australia and had nearly been run over by Ben later that day on her way back. She smiled to think of the pageant in Exchange Flags and how Ben had offered her a lift home. Now here she was settled with Ben and having his baby, although truth be known she would be happier if her father’s health was not failing so badly. She was concerned that he might die before the baby was born and she didn’t think she could bear it.

  One day, Grace left the house to take Fergie for a walk after she’d made sure her father was comfortable by the fire. She planned to drop in on Milly to tell her that she had felt the baby quickening; that was what she had heard it called when the baby stirred. Milly had made cups of tea served with freshly baked scones, and not for the first time, they had discussed what Grace could expect as her pregnancy progressed. Milly recommended that she read Marie Stopes’ Radiant Mother and Wise Parenthood before she gave birth.

  ‘You might be able to borrow them from the library. If not I’ll lend you my copies, but I wouldn’t want you to hang on to them too long as I like to dip into them,’ Milly added. ‘There could be parts in the books that bother you, but we can always talk about them.’

  Grace took in all that Milly said to her but she did not rush to order the books from the library, aware that if the two books mentioned were anything like Marie Stopes’ other books, she would need to bring to bear all her concentration – and she had such difficulty concentrating at the moment.

  Spring quickly turned to summer and Grace’s days fell into a slightly different routine. Ben insisted that she behaved sensibly and put her own health and that of their baby first. It caused an argument one day in July when she had grown quite big, and Ben found her sprucing up the bath chair with the intention of taking her father out in it to the park to enjoy the fine weather.

  ‘But I’m strong and it’s so dull for Dad being indoors day after day.’

  ‘Well, you taking him out in the bath chair is not the answer. You’re being foolish. It’ll be too much for you. You could strain yourself, and you don’t want to risk losing our baby,’ Ben thundered protectively.

  ‘Don’t shout at me,’ she cried. ‘You don’t understand!’

  ‘Of course, I do! But I lost my parents, a brother and a wife,’ he replied. ‘I don’t want to lose you and the baby as well because of a whim. How do you think it would make Simon feel? He’s so looking forward to being a big brother.’

  ‘All right! You’ve made your point. But have you any ideas on how to make life a little less dull for Dad?’

  ‘I’ll talk to him,’ said Ben resorting to his normal tone. ‘In the meantime, you make sure you have enough rest and some sensible exercise. Now, I’m off to work. I’ll see you later.’ He kissed her cheek and left her staring after him as he went downstairs and opened the front door. Grace could feel the tears coming, but was conscious that Ben had not shouted at her since the episode in the park last year with Simon and the runaway bath chair.

  * * *

  The following morning, the sun was streaming into their bedroom as Ben slipped out of bed so as not to disturb Grace. But she was awake already and said, ‘It looks like it’s going to be nice morning.’

  Ben agreed, ‘If you want to get your dad up and make sure he’s wrapped up warmly and bring a couple of cushions, I could run you both to the seawards side of the Customs House where the old salts gather on the steps, to look out towards the docks and the Mersey and to reminisce. Norma
n would enjoy that.’

  ‘Oh, that sounds like a plan! But how do we get back home? You surely don’t expect us to stay there until you finish work?’

  ‘Kyle has offered to pick you both up in the motor he bought with some of his winnings from the Irish sweepstake the other year. He’s given up working as a driver and is helping out at the orphanage full time.’

  ‘How kind of him. How’s Jane and their little boy? I miss her living round here. It’s ages since I’ve seen them.’

  ‘He’s a good bloke. As soon as I mentioned it was something your dad might like, he wanted to help. He won a packet on that sweepstake. He said their little boy is thriving. He also suggested you drop in and see Jane soon.’

  Grace agreed, ‘I’ll go next week, if they’ll have me.’

  Grace dressed and then went to see to her father with Ben’s help. When Simon woke up, the four of them had breakfast together; he said that he would like to have gone with Grace and Norman but as it was the school holidays, he had already arranged to meet his mates and have a game of cricket in the park.

  So, the three adults left the house leaving Simon making himself another slice of toast. Within half an hour, Ben had dropped off Grace and Norman outside the Customs House in Canning Place which was on the landward side of the road from Canning, Salthouse and Albert docks. As it was early in the morning, they had no difficulty finding a place where they could rest their backs and sit down. Grace did not stay still for long because the ageing ex-mariners gathered round and wanted to speak to her father. She excused herself and slowly went on her way to do that day’s shopping. An hour or so went by and as Grace was returning to her father, a car pulled up and Kyle stepped out and took the bags from her, before helping her and her father into the car.